


Of Alternate Universes

by nakadoo



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M, from my deadass ff.net account
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15149093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakadoo/pseuds/nakadoo
Summary: Hibari wakes up in a room much similar to his own but that's because it's his. He's pretty sure that Mukuro doesn't belong there, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this fic 6 years ago and it's literally the fic that made me want to make an Ao3 account to begin with so I don't know why I'm only moving it here now

Though waking up in the middle of the night on the floor of his room was nothing unusual to him (he often fell asleep in the weirdest places anyway), there was something that threw a certain Hibari Kyouya off. For one, his room was a mess when it shouldn’t have been; his room was always spotless and shining.

Literally.

Secondly, there was an unknown lump sitting in the middle of his bed, sleeping without a care in the world.

A lot of emotions flared up in the prefect, mostly that of rage and irritation and more rage, and he did the first thing that he could think of. Gripping at the sheets of his bed, he tugged harshly, sending the sleeping form to the ground in a tangle of sheets and pillows. He would have pulled out his tonfas by now but they were not on his person (another thing he found odd since he always had his tonfas with him, or at least close enough for him to grab in an instant).

The form on the floor groaned in irritation and pulled the tangled sheets over his body to keep his body warmth. “Kyouya,” the form crocked in a sleepy voice, “if you wanted the bed you could have just asked me to scoot over.”

Hibari knew that voice. He hated that voice with the intensity of a thousand burning suns, all imploding at the same time. He hated the owner of the voice even more. Seething, he switched on the bedside table lamp and glared at the boy laying down on his floor. “Rokudo,” he growled lowly, grabbing the nearest makeshift weapon (an old, rusty cutter. It would have to do for now), and slowly approached the boy. “What the _fuck_ are you doing in my room, you herbivore?”

Mukuro opened one red eye to stare at the prefect in confusion. “Kyouya,” he started slowly, a little concerned now as he sat up, “are. . . are you alright?”

His eye twitched. The blade of the cutter came out of its confines and he lunged towards Mukuro, tackling him to the ground. He pressed the rusted blade against the other’s neck, not enough force to draw blood but just to threaten. “You think you can just waltz into my room as if it were your own home?” he asked with a quiet voice dripping with venom and hate. “To even have the audacity to be confused, you irksome, incorrigible herbivore.”

To add to his irritation, the look that encompassed Mukuro’s face was that of concern rather fear. Another odd thing to note, he thought, since the damned illusionist usually smiled at his death threats. His eyebrow twitched and it took all of his will power to prevent himself from committing murder in his own room. No, he couldn’t kill him just yet; he needed answers. “Answer me, damn it” he spat.

“Kyouya,” Mukuro said softly, slowly, as if talking to a confused child. “You invited me over, remember?” he replied, pulling the rusty blade away from his neck and away from Hibari’s grasp. “We were supposed to finish our science project,” he said, gesturing at the pile of books and materials that surrounded them, not looking like a science project at all. “Are you mad that we, well, fell asleep on the job?” His eyebrow quirked up, indicating utter confusion.

That would explain the mess, Hibari thought to himself. “Why in the world would I invite you over?” he asked, still glaring at the other boy. Group projects were never his thing and if Hibari recalled correctly, Mukuro didn’t even go to school, he just wore the uniform of Kokuyo Middle because he had some odd uniform fetish. He grabbed another potential weapon, a pair of scissors this time, and pointed them at Mukuro.

“Uh, because I’m your best friend?” Mukuro asked sarcastically. He grabbed Hibari’s wrist before the other could plunge the scissors into his body and confiscated said weapon. “Jesus, Kyouya, can you stop trying to kill me for two seconds?!” he exclaimed and grabbed both of Hibari’s wrist before the prefect could grab anything else. “Talk to me! What’s gotten into you?”

“We’re not best friends. I hate you,” Hibari hissed, struggling. “You humiliated me, you bastard!”

A confused eyebrow rose. “What are you talking about?” Mukuro questioned. “When did I humiliate you? I don’t quite recall---“

“Stop playing coy!” Hibari shouted. It was certainly out of character, he thought to himself, but Mukuro was being an even bigger jerk than he usually was. “What the hell are you playing at?” He thrust forward, bumping his head hard enough against the other’s that he momentarily saw stars. He pulled his arms away and lunged forward once more, determined to hurt the other.

Before Mukuro could retaliate, the door of the room opened and the lights were flicked on. Standing at the doorway was a pretty woman with jet black hair and kind gray eyes. She pulled her pink robes a little closer to herself and stared at the two boys. “What are you two still doing awake?” she asked, her foot tapping lightly in mild annoyance but also in amusement. “Playing wrestling at your age?”

Hibari’s eyes widened in disbelief. “M-mother?” he asked, pulling himself off Mukuro. How many odd things have happened in one night? Now his mother was back when she was supposed to be working overseas? This had to be a dream. . . Or some sick twisted joke that none other than Mukuro had conjured. But he couldn’t bring himself to react violently when his mother was there, even if there was a high possibility that she was just an illusion.

“Oh, you know,” Mukuro chuckled and stood up, putting on a smile that Hibari knew was meant to be charming but just made his stomach churn in disgust. “Boys will be boys.”

Mrs. Hibari let out a little huff and smiled, before stifling a yawn behind her delicate looking hand. “So I’m guessing you’re sleeping over again, Mukuro-kun?” she asked. “Well, I think you left some clothes from the last time you slept over,” she said, walking to her son’s dresser to look for said items and pulled them out. She handed them to Mukuro then looked at both boys. “Now go on and change then get to bed, alright?”

Hibari nodded a bit dumbly as his mother pecked him on the cheek good night.

When Mukuro heard the soft click to what he assumed was Mrs. Hibari’s bedroom door closing, he walked over to where Hibari was and placed an arm around the other’s shoulders. He led the prefect to the bed and sat him down. “Alright Kyouya, tell me what’s wrong,” he said gently in an attempt to coax the other to speak.

He was reluctant at first but he eventually poured his story out. Hibari found it weird, sharing his thoughts out loud. He was a man of few words, after all, and it was even weirder that he was sharing all of it with the person he hated the most. Although, from what he noticed, Mukuro was sincerely being nice to him and it was almost too weird for him to handle.

“So what you’re saying is. . .” Mukuro trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. “Well, that would explain your attempt at murdering me,” he said with a laugh.

Hibari would have apologized but it just didn’t seem right if he did. He shrugged. At least this Mukuro wasn’t so annoying. There was sincerity in his eyes, and though it was genuine it made Hibari’s skin crawl.

Mukuro leaned back on his arms and looked at the ceiling, a thoughtful expression on his face. “From what you’ve just told me, it's almost as if you’ve come from a parallel universe,” he said, tilting his head slightly to look at the prefect with his eyebrow quirked at his own odd sounding suggestion.

That wasn’t as far fetched as it sounded.

“Are you mocking me?” Hibari snarled, baring his pearly whites at the other. “Do you think I’ve gone mad?”

Mukuro shook his head. “No, no, no, no, no! You’ve misunderstood me, Kyouya!” he exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in defense. “The you from this universe would never even _think_ about killing me.”

“Then he must be a weak, pathetic herbivore,” Hibari retorted, crossing his arms across his chest indignantly. “Not even worthy of my time.”

Mukuro huffed, slightly irked. “Then shall we look for a way to get you back to your universe and hopefully get my Kyouya back here?” he asked as he took off his school shirt to replace it with a more comfortable shirt. “Because I’d very much like to stay alive.”

“ _Your_ Kyouya?” Hibari questioned with a disgusted look on his face. There were so many things wrong with that statement. So many things he didn’t want to think about. He tried his best to push the ideas out of his head.

Mukuro’s eyebrows rose. “Hmm? My Kyouya? The Kyouya of this universe I mean,” he corrected himself. “Does this mean he ended up in your universe?” he mused out loud. “Oh my, I hope the other me doesn’t hurt him. . . “

Hibari changed into his sleeping clothes and climbed into his bed and under the sheets, emotionally exhausted. He stared at Mukuro as he did the same. “What do you think you’re doing?” he grumbled, glaring at the boy who was now laying beside him under the same blanket.

“Oh, my bad,” Mukuro exclaimed. He stood up and switched off the lights then made his way back into bed. He pulled the sheets over their bodies and snuggled up to Hibari. “Good night, Kyouya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's also been years since I touched the KHR fandom so I'm gonna have to kind of re-read the manga again to get like... a better idea of how to move this fic forward from where I left it. If you're like, an old reader from FF.NET, HI...


	2. Chapter 2

Hibari barely got any sleep that night, seeing as Mukuro fell asleep almost instantly next to him. He was never really comfortable with people invading his personal bubble and yet here was his worst enemy right beside him, arms wrapped around his waist as if he were a pillow. With a yawn, he pushed the other’s face away from him and tried to get up. “Move, herbivore.”

Mukuro stayed still for a few moments then yawned as well before sitting up. “Good morning, Kyouya,” he said with a smile. “Good thing it’s a weekend, huh.” He pointed at the digital clock on Hibari’s nightstand, which read 10:46am. “We would have been incredibly late by now.”

The prefect chose to ignore him and made his way to his dresser. He picked out clothes and pulled his towel off the chair where it hung. “I’m taking a bath,” he said sternly. “By the time I get back, I expect this room to be clean.”

“So demanding,” Mukuro pouted but nonetheless stood up to fix the bed. “A please would have been nice, Kyouya,” he said over his shoulder as he folded the blanket. “Should I expect a thank you from you when you come back or are you going to try to kill me with your toothbrush next?” he asked sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

Hibari threw a random book at Mukuro’s head. He was satisfied when it collided. “Stop whining,” he deadpanned and finally left for the bathroom.

He should probably be a little nicer to Mukuro, he thought. Since apparently, in this universe, they were best friends and Mukuro hasn’t actually done anything to him (aside from being incredibly unintentionally infuriating). In fact, Mukuro was being downright thoughtful even though all HIbari has been doing was metaphorically spitting at his face. He glanced at the pictures hanging on the wall as he made his way to the bathroom and was slightly surprised to see that some of them were of him and Mukuro. There was even one picture with Mukuro, Chrome and him and he was _smiling_. He promptly turned the picture around, disturbed, and entered the bathroom for his bath.

Finally putting away the last few books, Mukuro sighed. Kyouya had always been quiet and blunt and sometimes a little bit insensitive but this Kyouya was downright mean. “Attempted murder!” he whispered to himself harshly, throwing his hands up in the air in agitation. “ _Twice!_ ”

He sighed. Even if the other Kyouya was a jerk, he was still, in a sense, Kyouya. Being his best friend and all, he felt obliged to help him even if it meant several attempts on his life. He was nice like that. What was the worst he could do anyway, right? He wouldn’t actually attempt his life…. Would he? It was a disturbing thought to entertain and he decided to drop it before he imagined himself bathed in his own blood and Hibari grinning down at him like a mad man.

Oops, too late.

That was a horrible mental image. He grimaced.

Mukuro sat on the bed and picked up a picture frame that, thankfully, wasn’t destroyed by Hibari from yesterday’s fit. He stared at it, smiling at the memories it elicited. It was of him and Kyouya, skeptical looks on their faces. It was a candid shot that was taken during one of the first few days of their high school lives. A lopsided smirk grew on his face and he nodded; he was definitely going to help get his best friend back, no matter what the cost.

“I’m surprised you did well,” a monotonous voice called, catching the hetochromatic eyed boy’s attention. “The room I mean,” Hibari added at the confused look that enveloped Mukuro’s face, looking around the room as he dried his hair with his towel with one had as the other worked to zip up his pants. He thought it was kind of funny seeing that caught off guard look on Mukuro’s face and he decided to keep count of how many times this Mukuro would make it.

“Is that a thank you?” Mukuro sing-songed, placing the picture back down and stood up. He placed his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows at Hibari. “Have you thought about what we’re going to do now?” he asked, sauntering towards the other boy before snatching the towel away from his grasp. “I mean, it’s not like there are a lot people out there who know about alternate universes and the likes. Actually, I do believe society considers the those types of people as as nut jobs.”

Hibari glared at Mukuro for stealing his towel and sat down at his desk. “I know of someone,” he said and frowned, shuffling through his desk to rearrange his things before he cracked his knuckles absentmindedly “but it will be tedious to look for him.” In all honesty, he’d rather not talk to the man he had in mind but if he wanted to get back home, he’s going to have to deal with him. How bad could it possibly be, he wondered to himself.

Mukuro had his hand on the doorknob, a change of clothes in his possession. “Well, it’s better than nothing, right?” he replied with a shrug. “So I’m supposing that we’re leaving as soon as possible to look for this person, yes?”

The prefect’s brow furrowed in confusion. “ _We?_ ” he asked incredulously with a frown. “I don’t need your help,” he huffed as he looked for a pair of socks. “As soon as you’re done with your bath, I expect you to leave my house,” he said and pointed a scolding finger at the other. “As soon as possible,” he added as an afterthought. He didn’t need someone tagging along with him and making side comments about how silly he’s being or whatever it was Mukuro liked to talk about. He could live without that, thank you very much.

“Kufufufu, you’re funny, Kyouya,” Mukuro replied, sticking his tongue out playfully at the other.

He barely dodged the pencil case that was aimed at his head. He scowled at Hibari. “It’s not like I’m coming with you because I want to help you specifically,” he retaliated. “I’m doing it to help this world’s Kyouya. Don’t be so conceited,” he finished, an irked tone lacing his words, and finally left the room.

It was then that Hibari decided that he’d like to keep count of all the different emotions this Mukuro would show him, because it was rare to see so many different expressions on his face when the man he knew usually wore an ignorant smirk of indifference or amusement. The expressions will be kept locked away in his head to amuse himself when he was feeling particularly displeased with one thing or another.

Though that thought brought a small grin to him, Hibari decided that Mukuro was probably in some way incredibly annoying in every universe that existed; it was a multi-universal constant, he was sure. He put on his shirt, pulled his socks on and left his room for the kitchen.

The aroma of freshly cooked rice with dried fish and miso soup wafted through his nose and he sat down at the table. His usually empty kitchen (more appropriately, his kitchen from his universe was usually empty) was now decorated with pretty and fragile china pieces kept behind decorative cupboards, mismatched magnets that looked as if they were plucked from different parts of the world (they probably were) cluttered the door of the fridge in a messy but organized way, and the curtains were drawn aside to let the sunlight spill in through the clean windows. It looked more homey, more used, and less pristine compared to what he was used to and it stirred an odd feeling within him, a feeling that he couldn’t put a name to. His eyes wandered around the kitchen to spot more differences, then wandered to the figure cooking at the stove and he heard a tune that his mother used to sing to him all the time when he was much younger.

In a way it was nostalgic. It was as if the life from his childhood days was handed back to him on a silver platter (minus Mukuro being his best friend, of course. The idea was still intangible to him). The seemingly normal atmosphere was nice because it had an air of contentedness, an air of what could have been, but it was also disturbing. He wasn’t used to the normalcy of regular life anymore; he has long since forgotten what it is to be a part of _The Norm_.

“Good morning, Kyou-chan,” his mother greeted him warmly, giving him a kiss on the forehead as she placed down a steaming bowl of miso soup in front of him, next to the rest of his breakfast that had already been laid out before him. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, occupying the seat across him and pulling a cup of coffee to her lips that was presumably laid out previously for herself.

He gave a silent “thank you” before picking up the pair of chopsticks in front of him and nodded his head slowly. “Somewhat,” he replied slowly and began eating his meal. Though it was uncomfortable having a body cuddled up against him, he had to admit to himself that the warmth that it provided was highly welcomed. He’d never claim that out loud though.

Mukuro walked in with a towel draped around his shoulders, looking almost ready to head out. “Good morning, mama,” he greeted Hibari’s mother with a smile before taking his seat beside Hibari prefect. “It smells lovely in here!” he complimented. He turned his attention to the boy beside him and patted his head lightly in an almost fond manner.

Hibari nearly choked on his food at the other boy’s greeting and was quick to grab a glass of water to clear his throat; as if things couldn’t get any more awkward than it already was. His worst enemy was now calling his mother ‘mama’ so freely. It was extremely unnerving but he decided to keep his disturbed thoughts to himself, if only for the sake of his mother’s sanity. No point in dragging her into the messed up world that is the life of Hibari Kyouya.

“Is something wrong, Kyouya?” his mother asked, filling his glass with water once he’d emptied it. She reached across the table to brush his bangs away from his eyes and gently cupped his face in her hand briefly before pulling back to look at her son with concern.

He cleared his throat and continued to eat, warm affection comfortably flooding over him from his mother’s touch. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed it. “Wrong pipe,” he murmured in reply. He glared pointedly at Mukuro’s innocent and questioning look and repressed the urge to stab him with his chopsticks. The thought was very tempting.

Mukuro tilted his head to the side but directed his attention to Hibari’s mother as she stood up and placed a meal in front of him. He thanked her and began to eat as well. “So, Kyouya,” he started, poking at his food a bit, “what are our plans for today?”

The prefect’s lips were set to a tight line. He didn’t know how to address the question in his mother’s presence and stuck with glaring daggers at the other boy. If he could, though, he would have punched Mukuro’s face and tell him to leave him alone and never come back before promptly beating him to half to death.

Mukuro chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his head. He had the strangest feeling that Hibari was thinking of the many different ways he could kill him and it left him slightly worried for his well being. “Kyouya, if you keep glaring like that, your face might freeze and I’ll never see your smiling face again,” he teased.

Hibari bared his teeth and growled in reply. “Shut up you vexing pineapple,” he hissed. It was childish to be calling him names but he was just really irritated at the moment and he thought that maybe sensibility could wait for just a few seconds. He also did not want to swear in front of his mother. He calmed down slightly after that outburst and let out a huff, saying “I’ll tolerate you for now but irk me once more and I will bite you to death.”

“That isn’t fair, Kyouya! You are annoyed at everything!” complained Mukuro with a pout. “Mama, talk some sense into your son!” he called out to Hibari’s mother who had gone into the other room to continue her chores. A muffled, teasing scold met them and Mukuro chuckled a bit under his breath.

“Stop doing that!” he hissed, pointing his chopsticks threateningly at other boy. “It’s getting far too annoying!” and highly disturbing, he thought. He rose from his chair, meal unfinished, and stomped out of the kitchen, fuming and frustrated.

There were so many ways that he could kill him. He’d use a blunt object if he had to but then said object would be ruined and stained with blood. He couldn’t risk that, especially with his mother around watching. Though he already had an elaborate plan hatching in his mind and he stared quite contentedly at the baseball bat lying in the corner of the living room. “ _As soon as mother leaves,_ ” he thinks to himself and promptly plops down on the couch with a huff.

Mukuro raised a questioning eyebrow at Hibari’s actions and stood up to join him on the couch. The glare that was directed at him made him feel a little bit guilty. Hugging Hibari from behind and over the backrest, he nuzzled his face into the prefect’s hair. “Oh, Kyouya, don’t be mad,” he cooed gently. “I was just teasing.”

“I’m giving you five seconds to let go of me before I bite your fingers off,” he snarled.

Mukuro chuckled and ignored the threat. “You don’t mean that,” he whispered into the other’s ear. “I’m sorry,” he apologized with a smile. He yelped in surprise when he indeed felt teeth sinking into his fingers and immediately withdrew his arms away from Hibari. “Kyouya, you jerk!” he shook his hand vigorously in an attempt to null the pain and when he realized that he was bleeding, he promptly stuck his fingers in his mouth.

Hibari grinned at his small victory. “I warned you,” he huffed, satisfied. Though he did cause the other boy pain, it was not enough to quell the angry feelings of resentment and hate that he harbored against him. No, only his imminent and slow death would completely satisfy him.

Despite the physical harassment that he had to endure ever since yesterday night, Mukuro still sat down next to his ‘friend’ and sent him a glare, his lower lip jutting out in annoyance. “What are you, five?” he questioned impatiently, eyeing both Hibari and his bleeding fingers. “You broke through the skin!” he exclaimed, raising up his fingers to Hibari’s eye level to show the damage he had caused.

The prefect merely shrugged, seemingly not amused by the other boy’s inconvenience. He picked up the television remote that sat on the arm of the couch and switched the T.V. on. “Finish your food,” he instructed, nodding his head once at the direction of the kitchen where Mukuro’s unfinished meal sat, growing cold. 

Mukuro sent one more glare at Hibari before flicking the other boy’s forehead with his (undamaged) index finger, and went back into the kitchen with much muttered annoyed complaints. “He doesn’t say please, death threats at every turn, and now he even bites me!” he complained, sending a glare at Hibari who sat very contentedly on the couch.

Though he hated to admit it, he needed Mukuro’s assistance for two reasons: one, he wasn’t exactly a people person and he didn’t like talking much anyway. Two, Mukuro was, he had to admit, quite charismatic despite his annoying attitude, and Hibari was pragmatic enough to know that that skill would come in handy.

The thing about Mukuro Rokudo, Hibari thought to himself, is that the other could become anything he so desired, or he could become anyone that everyone else wanted. After all the other boy is an illusionist; he was a master of lies and deception, both with his words and his supernatural skills. “If you’re done with whatever it is you are doing, we’re leaving” he said bluntly, quickly surfing through several T.V. Channels before deciding that there was nothing worth watching. He was never really a T.V. persona anyway. He stood up and made his way to the coat wrack only to discover that his Namimori Disciplinary Committee jacket was not in its usual place.

Mukuro joined him, fingers neatly covered in bandages, and pulled a jacket off the wrack. “Well, Kyouya?” he asked, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, being mindful of his still throbbing fingers. “Are we leaving or what?” he added, pulling off a second jacket from the wrack to wrap around Hibari’s shoulders. “You haven’t even told me who could help us yet.”

Hibari stared pointedly at Mukuro. “Where is my Namimori jacket?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest much like a child would when his favorite toy was missing.

The other boy raised an eyebrow. “Oya, you mean a disciplinary jacket?” he asked, making his way to the front door to pull on his shoes. “I know you like black jackets and all but you’re not even in the committee,” he informed the other as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, pulling a pair of black leather gloves on.

Something cracked inside Hibari’s head.

“ _What?_ ” he asked, quietly, slowly, hands balling into fists as he tried to keep calm.

Mukuro blinked at Hibari’s reaction and gently ushered the prefect (well, he’s not a prefect in this universe, apparently) out the house, hoping that he wouldn’t have to die today. “It’s in the wash?” he tried to lie, hoping that Hibari would buy the blatant statement.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Rokudo” Hibari snarled, jerking away from Mukuro’s touch to glare at everything that came across his path. “Where. The fuck. Is. My jacket?” he growled, stomping his feet with each step he took. He was too annoyed at everything at the moment that he didn’t care if he was acting like a spoiled child.

Mukuro could barely keep in his chuckle and tried his best not to smile before elaborating. “Kyouya,” he started with a placid tone, “the Kyouya of this universe is just a normal high school student going to Nami-high.” He gave Hibari a concerned look before continuing. “Does it. . . does it disturb you that your other self isn’t . . . exactly like you?”

“Yes,” Hibari replied sharply. “Just as you are disturbed by your other self being a sadistic, manipulative bastard,” he retorted with a frown as they walked down the street with no particular destination in mind. He needed time to think of a plan, and he was sure that he wasn’t going to get any ideas in his home, due to the fact that none other than Mukuro has invaded his personal space and it was giving him the feeling of claustrophobia. At least outside he could put a decent amount of space in between him and the illusionist. A few hundred meters sounded just about right.

“C’mon, Kyouya! Wait up!!” Mukuro called, immediately catching up with Hibari despite his quickened pace.

Curse him. Curse him and his long legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me? procrastinating? yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

The initial plan was to go find Sawada Tsunayoshi as soon as he possibly could, which could, in reality, accomplished in a few minutes time had it not been for Mukuro. It seemed as if the illusionist was deliberately stalling him and drawing on the minutes into hours into days even, and it was frustrating how Mukuro was able to manipulate him without him realizing until the day was already over.

And by manipulate, he meant he hated how Mukuro was ever so sly with his words, more convincing and conniving than the one that he knows and hates, what with his words of endearment and sneaky tricks. Sneaky, in the sense that the other Hibari had a ridiculous sweet tooth and much to his dismay, it was something that he had in common with his other self.

It had started out as an invitation to his home, which was actually a small apartment that he shared with the illusionist girl, Chrome if he remembered her name correctly, and sat him down on a stool at the small kitchenette table for a cup of tea and perhaps a slice of cake. He shrugged and snarled out a “whatever” and Mukuro had given him a smile and served him cake, which he more or less accepted with a slight roll of his eyes and a click of his tongue.

He was… Not disappointed, to put in a way that wasn’t embarrassing or a means of complimenting something in front of Mukuro whom was looking at him expectantly. Hibari raised his eyebrows and shoveled another bite of cake. “What are you looking at?” he asked, washing the sweetness down with the tea and he almost smiled. He would have if he was alone, but alas, he was in the company of an idiotic illusionist with a funny grin.

“How do you like it?” Mukuro asked in reply, sitting beside him and poured himself his own cup of tea, stealing a bite of cake from Hibari’s plate. At the cold look he was given, he muttered a “less plates to wash” and thankfully, Hibari seemed to be okay with that answer.

Hibari sighed and nabbed the fork back, unsure if he still wanted to use something that was in the illusionist’s mouth. He decided that it would be best if he asked for another fork because who knows what germs Mukuro’s mouth held. Actually, he didn’t really want to find out and asked for a new fork, which Mukuro fetched for him. “It is acceptable,” he replied and gave a small nod of thanks once handed the fork and he took another bite. “From which shop did you buy this from?”

“I made it myself!” Mukuro said cheerily, refilling Hibari’s teacup when he noticed it was near empty. He did not know what to make of Hibari’s incredulous look, but he decided that maybe he wanted it to be a look that meant ‘Good job Mukuro! This is the best cake that I’ve ever had and you should open your own bakery or something because I’d go there everyday just to eat the cakes you make and have a chat with you if you weren’t so busy and Chrome looks adorable in that maid dress. Did you design it yourself?’ Of course, that was something far from reality. He was pretty sure the Kyouya he knew wouldn’t say anything of the likes either because he had to admit that it was a little bit embarrassing to have his best friend say something as silly as that; embarrassing and silly, but still very supportive and welcomed. A man can dream though. A man can dream.

He took a slow gulp. Maybe this isn't an alternate universe. Maybe Mukuro is playing coy and innocent and nice just to delude him into thinking that he is indeed in an alternate world but in reality, he was just playing him for a fool. Though his initial reaction would be a threat and maybe a tonfa at Mukuro’s neck, he stayed as calm as he could possibly manage and said slowly “what did you put in it?”

Mukuro tilted his head to the side and tapped the tip of his chin in thought as he tried to recall the ingredients he had used. “Are you asking me if I did anything different from the normal cake recipes?” he asked finally. Hibari nodded and he let a little grin grow on his face. “I used real ground cinnamon and none of that fake vanilla extract and fresh eggs from Ryohei-kun’s chicken. The ingredients are expensive but only the finest ingredients for the finest cake,” he said with slight arrogance. Sasagawa owns a chicken? That was something that Hibari was not aware of.

That didn’t exactly put Hibari at ease but it was enough to keep him on his seat and not clawing Mukuro’s eyes out. “No poison or anything, right?” he asked, poking at the cake, not exactly feeling all that hungry anymore. Well, he wasn’t exactly hungry to begin with; it was just his taste buds lusting for something sweet and Mukuro offered and who was he to deny free food? But the sweetness that his tongue longed for turned sour in his mouth (metaphorically speaking so to say, and not like the food that Bianchi woman could make with her crazy poison cooking) and he shoved the plate away. “I’m done.”

Mukuro sighed, genuinely depressed with the situation at hand and couldn’t stop the small pout that made it’s way onto his face.. “Oh Kyouya, are you having trust issues?” he asked, scooting closer and setting the plate and teacups aside on the other end of the table. He only proved himself right when Hibari inched away slightly.

It was an improvement, he supposed. At least he didn’t have anything sharp (or worse, dull) at his neck to cut him open with or death threats at every turn, but it still left him feeling a little down that he was still not trusted despite his efforts. “Well, from what you’ve told me about the other Mukuro, I can see why you would feel that way,” he explained as placidly and as comforting as he could, acceptance in his tone, and he continued. “But he is not me, parallel to the way that you aren’t the Kyouya I know.”

Hibari knew this. He has observed some of the other residents of Namimori and of the ones that he recognized, they were slightly different, if not completely different from the people he knew (not that he knew them well). He knew this but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was still not to be trusted. He doesn’t exactly know if its because of the hate that he harbors for Mukuro or the fact that no matter what the situation was, there was always an enigmatic smile plastered onto Mukuro’s face and it seriously unnerved him.

Except… this smile right now that he was seeing; it was different. Mukuro looked genuinely sad despite the upturn of his lips and his stomach gave a tiny lurch and he isn’t so sure why that happened. Maybe it was the cake. Or the tea, he wasn’t exactly sure. That had to be it. It wasn’t because the way Mukuro looked so sad.

“I know that,” he replied in what he hoped was a calm demeanor. “I just find it harder to trust people in general as compared to others,” he said, taking the cake back to steal another bite, a little bit of his appetite coming back now that he was thinking a little more appropriately. He doesn’t know why but when Mukuro’s smile turned a little more genuine, he let out a little breath he didn’t know he was holding and he doesn’t know why his heart is thrumming out of its normal beat. It was because he was expecting Mukuro to pull out his trident and laugh that annoying laugh of his and say something along the lines of ‘impressive, you noticed my act’. That was definitely the reason.

He pushed his cup towards Mukuro in silent askance for a refill, which the illusionist obliged to happily and it was as if nothing had happened. Hibari doesn’t know if that sits well with him and he washes down the cake with more tea, hoping to flush down the confused feelings as well. He didn’t need to be deterred by such petty thoughts. He had bigger fish to fry.

“Mother was asking if you were going to sleep over again,” he stated out of nowhere. It wasn’t a lie though, his mother really did ask and it was better if he avoided awkward silences. Well, at least he felt like it would get awkward if a silence fell upon them. He was thankful that Mukuro took the bait and nodded, starting a monologue (since Hibari didn’t really listen most of the time) about how fun it would be to sleep over at Kyouya’s house even though he’s there more often than not.

“Chrome-chan is actually over at the Sasagawa’s right now,” he informed Hibari, taking the dishes to the sink and began to wash them, not minding at all that his friend decided that helping was a thing that he didn't want to do and so he didn't. This Kyouya was beginning to fall into his routine, and the more they hung out, the more he noticed things about him.

Obviously, one was the sweet tooth. Maybe all Hibari’s liked sweets. It was a kind of cute thought to play with in his head, considering that this Kyouya had shown him a childish stubbornness that he wasn’t expecting from someone who seemed so refined and elegant. Yes, he considered this Hibari to be elegant, whereas the Hibari he knew was a little awkward with how he held himself together. It was cute, seeing his Hibari fumble with his words when he got anxious about this or that and how he tried to hide it behind a face of nonchalance or indifference.

He fell into silence as he washed the dishes, listing in a mental Venn diagram the similarities and differences between the two Kyouya’s. It was a long list, he had to admit, and he was sure to discover more things to compare. He shook his head no to himself, finishing the last teacup and setting it aside to dry. He shouldn’t compare the two Kyouya’s. Though they held the same face, same voice and the same name, it didn’t mean they were the same person.

“Are you going to leave a note for her?” Hibari asks, pulling him out of his pensive thoughts and he sees that Hibari is already writing down something on the whiteboard that he had hanging on the refrigerator door for such occasions. He nodded and wiped his hands dry on his pants, walking over to stand behind Hibari to see what he had written down. He almost laughed, there was a drawing to go with it as well.

“Pineapple fairy is out,” it read in the prefect’s neat cursive, and under that was a drawing of what he assumed to be a chibi version of himself in a tutu, with a scepter with a pineapple at the end.

“Aww,” Mukuro said, bemused as he observed Hibari’s handiwork. “You even have my laugh down.”

Hibari almost grinned and wondered what Mukuro would really look like in a frilly pink tutu with lace and everything. He was brought out of his imagination when he felt the marker slip from his fingers and turned his attention to Mukuro as he added his own drawings to the board and a few words of his own.

In tiny characters as compared to what he had written, Mukuro’s note read “out with boy skylark, having a tea party; be back tomorrow.” Beside the Mukuro fairy was a cute little bird that reminded him much of his pet, Hibird, though it had a scowl on its face and a word bubble that read “everything is annoying,” and this time he actually let a chuckle slip by his lips. Mukuro seemed to be pleased with himself.

“Shall we be on our way then?” he asked, putting the cap back on the marker and placing it on the top of the counter. He rummaged around for some of his things and shoved them into his bag almost unceremoniously and shouldered it, giving Hibari another one of his smiles.

As they made their way to his home, Mukuro talking animatedly about who knows what, he pondered. Something was different now between the two of them. It was a somewhat relieving feeling that he and Mukuro were now in slightly better terms despite his paranoia, which was actually now dwindling down to a simple nagging feeling rather alarms going off in his head. Though part of him felt like it was a good thing that whatever had happened between them had happened, another part of him made him feel as if he had made the wrong decision.

He listed the pros and cons of the situation, but the pros outweighed the cons at a ridiculous amount, seeing that the only cons he could think of was that Mukuro was more or less annoying most of the time but he’s been surrounded by annoying people all his life so he has learned how to tune them out so Mukuro’s incessant talking about anything and everything was something that he could handle and something he was beginning not to mind. It at least got rid of the white noise in his head.

He chanced a sidelong glance at his companion, a rather carefree look on his face as he continued to chatter on. Hibari found that he had picked up bits and pieces of what Mukuro was saying (something about opening a bakery and living a simple life with his beloved sister Chrome). He scoffed mentally; a simple life for someone as inexplicable as the illusionist was almost laughable. Though he gave off a cheery mood, Hibari could never shake off the feeling that there was more to Mukuro than that damned smile of his. He wondered if it was the same with the other Mukuro, but decided that he’d rather not entertain the thought, or any though for that matter, about the stupid illusionist who had beaten him bloody for his own amusement. That bastard was going to pay.

“Kyouya?”

He turned his attention to Mukuro and gave him a questioning look. Did he finally catch on that he wasn’t really listening? He wondered how this Mukuro would feel about that.

“You seem to be troubled, more so than usual. What’s bothering you?” Mukuro asked, tilting his head slightly to the side to get a better look at his friend’s face.

Hibari wasn’t sure if his mask of indifference faltered or if Mukuro was just that good at reading other people. That was something to be intimidated about, to be completely honest. Showing emotions aside from anger and annoyance was a bad thing to do, in his opinion. People would abuse whatever weakness you show, be it physical or emotional. He kept his face straight and turned his attention back to the road in front of them. “Things,” he replied simply, with a slight roll of his shoulders.

“What kind of things?” he pressed, walking ahead of Hibari only to turn around and walk backwards so he could keep his eye on him. Hibari wondered briefly what would happen if he accidentally fell in a hole, or if he tumbled and landed himself inside a trash can. It was an amusing thought and it helped him keep his cool as he replied with an almost teasing smirk “nothing you should be concerned about.”

He let out a huff, a look akin to a pout (that was definitely a pout) at Hibari’s reply and kept walking backwards, refusing to let go of eye contact with him. “And the prize for most vague answer is awarded to none other than Hibari Kyouya, the man of many mysteries,” he clapped his hands in an almost mocking way but Hibari can hear the playful teasing in his tone and he rolled his eyes. He created a microphone with a flick of his hand and his illusions and raised it in front of Hibari, the illusion of a camera man behind him as well. “How do you feel about winning this wonderful award, Kyouya-kun?”

Hibari scoffed and swatted the microphone away from his hand and before it clattered to the ground, it dissipated into an indigo mist, which he knew well. The cameraman disappeared as well and only Mukuro was left with a grin so wide, he thought that his face might split in half. “You are a shallow man, Rokudo,” he tells Mukuro with an upturn of his lips. “Trash can behind you,” he warns before he could think and Mukuro doges it gracefully and continues his backwards walk.

“Not only did you win the most vague award, you have also won the Captain Obvious award,” he said and cheered again. “You seem to be on a roll today, Kyouya, I’m impressed.”

Hibari rolled his eyes yet again and only scoffed when the pout returned to Mukuro’s lips. “And I’m supposing you’re running for the idiot marathon in hopes of winning first place?” He retorted, grinning slightly at the brief moment of bafflement that encompassed Mukuro’s face at Hibari’s engagement in his playful banter. Hibari took notice of the look, it’s a new expression he thinks, and keeps it mentally noted for future reference.

As quickly as the look had come, it was replaced by a challenging grin. All the way home they exchanged insults in a friendly competition of outdoing the other, a back and forth that actually had Hibari struggling to keep a grin from his face.. It was something that Hibari didn’t usually take interest in but Mukuro was proving to be a worthy opponent of words. He wondered if his tongue was as sharp as his sword, in which he meant of course his skill in a physical battle and instead of a sword, it was his trident. Maybe Mukuro might accept an invite to a friendly spar.

The trip to his house seemed quicker than he remembered and he unlocked the door of his house and looked down, noting that his mother’s shoes were gone and her slippers were neatly tucked under the shoe cabinet. His mother must be out doing groceries, at least that's what he assumed and he stepped in and took of his own shoes off. “She’s not home,” he told Mukuro over his shoulder as walked in, making his way to the couch and splayed his body over the whole thing, taking up all the space. He is kind of tired, not physically but emotionally and his mouth was kind of dry and his jaw was aching. That was the most he’s ever spoken in one conversation and if playful banter with Mukuro would be a daily thing, he’s not quite sure how he was going to keep up with that mouth of Mukuro’s.

That sounded weirder than it should have but he brushed that thought aside to the darkest crevices of his mind and hopefully never to be thought of again.

Mukuro was infuriatingly good at reading Hibari, seeing as the first thing he does after entering the humble Hibari abode is to go to the kitchen to fetch his friend a glass of water. He patted at Hibari’s legs, urging the other boy to move and make room for him. Hibari isn’t sure why but he obliged, lifting his legs for a moment so that Mukuro could slip underneath their weight. Hibari doesn’t want to think about how comfortable he currently is, he doesn’t want to think about how Mukuro would probably make a good pillow. When Mukuro offers the glass to him, all he can think to do is give him his thanks.

“So what now, Kyouya?” he asked, leaning back against the backrest as he spreads his arms across it. “You still haven’t informed me of your plan on how you’re getting back home.” He turned his head to the side to give Hibari a smile that looks like he’s trying to urge the information out of him.

Hibari wasn’t some silly girl who is easily persuaded by a charming smile and kind words. He was better than that and no, he did not think that Mukuro’s smile was charming at all. It was a conniving smirk, he corrected himself. Very conniving and sneaky. The bastard. He closed his eyes, his breathing calm and steady, and he replied with “you wasted at least three days talking my ear off” instead of giving Mukuro his real answer.

“What?!” Mukuro actually sounds surprised and a little bit guilty but Hibari just waved his hand a little bit in dismissal. Mukuro slumped back into the couch and let out an unhappy sigh. “See, if you had told me sooner, maybe I wouldn’t have done tha—“

“It doesn’t matter,” he intervened before it got too wordy. “It’s been a while since I truly had a moment to relax,” because the lack of annoying herbivores was surprisingly high and as much as he enjoyed biting people to death, moments of normalcy no matter how odd it felt to him actually helped him mellow out. Probably the reason he’s been acting relatively kind to someone who shares the face of the man he hates.

Mukuro is quiet for a moment, for which Hibari is almost thankful for, until he quipped “hey Kyouya, wanna learn how to bake a cake?” and Hibari gave him a look of mild surprise. “I mean, since we’ve got time? We do have time right?” Hibari nodded once at him and Mukuro continued his spiel. “And well, maybe we can surprise Mama or something!”

Hibari isn’t so sure if Mukuro was kidding or being completely serious.

The last thing Hibari had made his mother was a breakfast in bed when he was ten, on the day she had to go abroad for her job.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. Doing something nice for his mother was something he hasn’t done in a long time. He’d grown cold towards her due to her absence in his life but again, those two people are not the same people and his mother in this universe was very kind and motherly, something that existed but he forgot about until recently. “Alright,” he replied with a shrug. The day turned out oddly nice, even he is willing to admit that to himself.

So Mukuro taught him how much of this and how much of that went into a strawberry shortcake and Hibari caught himself actually paying attention this time.

Maybe hanging out with Mukuro wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH


	4. Chapter 4

He was mistaken.

Though Mukuro did have his moments of being NOT annoying and useful and actually good company, he was vexing more often than not and he had to regrettably put up with whatever shenanigans Mukuro might pull. At least it was easy to keep him quiet when discipline called itself to be used and sometimes hitting the illusionist upside the head felt good and it was almost like a stress reliever for Hibari.

“You don’t have to be so harsh, Kyouya,” Mukuro whined from his side, one hand shoved deep into his pocket whilst the other rubbed a sore spot on his head gingerly. Hibari had one of the most painful punches that he’s ever had the misfortune of experiencing. “A simple verbal berating would have sufficed, you know.”

It was nearing winter now, only the beginning of early November. Hibari’s been stuck in this universe for eighteen days and his irritation levels were at a hazardous point so it was easier than usual to push him past his boiling point. “One must punish an unruly puppy while it’s still young so it can learn its place once it gets older,” he replied, scuffing some snow on the sidewalk for no particular reason. “Wouldn’t want the neighbors complaining about a noisy dog.”

“You’re comparing me to a puppy?” Mukuro asked with a quirked eyebrow and sincere bewilderment on his face. “Isn’t that an odd analogy? I quite thought myself more a snake rather a puppy,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders as they continued on their walk. “Or are you implying that I look as innocent as a puppy? If then, wouldn’t that be an advantage? Opposing families won’t expect a puppy to kill them, right?”

Hibari gave Mukuro a look that said _‘I am questioning your sanity at the moment’_ and scoffed. “Morbid,” he said briefly, to which Mukuro replied with a laugh. “I don’t refer to you as a snake because there is only one snake that I can think of,” he replied with a slight snarl. The only person he would refer to as a snake was none other than the Mukuro Rokudo that beat him to humiliation; the same Mukuro Rokudo that would one day die by his hand.

“Kyouya, are you alright?”

Hibari shrugged. He doesn’t know why the Mukuro from his universe was such a pain in the ass. He assumed it was because he was raised by the mafia or something; mafia families are violent and surely the parents pass it on to their children. Well, he couldn’t care less about Mukuro’s past; he needn’t know why he was who he was.

The lack of a verbal reply dampened Mukuro’s usually bubbly mood so he decided to change the topic altogether. “Anyway, Kyouya, where are we headed?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow. “If I do recall correctly, this is where Dino-kun lives, right?” he asked with a finger on his chin as he thought.

It was Hibari’s turn to quirk an eyebrow. “That man lives here?”

“Oh, right! The fact that you’re not the Kyouya I know keeps slipping my mind,” he laughed. “Anyway,” he said while pointing at one house that looked normal enough. “Dino of the Cavallone Famiglia: a friend of ours. He’s a college exchange student from Italy, course: Asian studies,” he explained, pushing the small wooden fence door out of the way to let himself and Hibari in. “He is currently living with Sawada Tsunayoshi-kun and his family.”

If Hibari recalled correctly, Dino once told him that Sawada was like a younger brother to him.

Mukuro knocked on the door twice before inviting himself in. “Dino-kun, Tsunayoshi-kun!” he called, pulling his shoes off at the door. He turned around to look at Hibari whom was still standing at the door. “Well, don’t just stand there!” he said, grabbing Hibari by the arm to drag him inside. “You’re going to talk to one of them, right?”

Hibari jerked his arm away from the other’s grasp and growled. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop touching me?” he asked, eyes narrowing to slits at Mukuro’s happy chuckle. Nonetheless, he took his shoes off as well and followed Mukuro up the stairs.

Just when Mukuro placed his hand over the doorknob to Tsuna’s room, a loud explosion was heard from behind the door. A bit worried at what had caused the boom and the well being of the people inside the room, Mukuro thrust the door open and used the sleeve of his long shirt to cover his mouth and nose. The room was filled with thick black smoke and a few unfortunate items were set ablaze. “Tsunayoshi-kun?” he asked a little worriedly, putting out the small flames with a stray pillow lying on the ground. “Dino-kun? Are you two in here?”

From under the debris, a brunet head popped up, coughing out the smoke that had entered his lungs. Rubbing at his eyes and fanning the smoke away from his face with his hand, the boy grinned sheepishly at Mukuro. “Mukuro-san!” he greeted, standing up to brush the dirt off of his now ruined clothes. “What brings you here?” he asked as if there was nothing wrong.

Judging by how nonchalant the boy was being, Hibari assumed that occurrences similar to this happened on a regular basis so he made no move to help. Being careful not to step on anything dangerous on the ground, the prefect made his way beside Mukuro to give the boy an icy glare. “What is the meaning of this, Sawada?” he asked, giving the room a once over in disgust. “This room is a mess.”

“A-ah! Hibari-san!” he chuckled nervously. He looked at his two visitors and smiled before making his way to the window to let the smoke out. “Didn’t expect you two to drop by! It’s rare that anyone does, actually!” The window he had just opened cracked before it shattered into shards just as he finished his sentence. He sighed in resignation and acceptance before stepping off to the side so that he wouldn’t step on the glass.

Mukuro chuckled and took a seat on the soot-covered bed and let out a little cough to clear his throat. “Well, look at this room, Tsunayoshi! Simply filthy!” He dusted the seat beside him and attempted to coax Hibari to sit next to him in vain.

“Where is the Bronco?” Hibari asked, arms folded over his chest in slight impatience. Unlike the Sawada Tsunayoshi that he knew (not that he knew him very well, mind you), it seemed that this one was not afraid of his presence or his cold glares or his threatening tone. It unnerved him a little bit but he still kept his cool and continued to glare at the boy.

“O-oh! You mean Dino-nii?” he asked in reply. He picked up a small fire extinguisher from his desk (and it only confirmed Hibari’s suspicion of explosions being a regular thing) and put out the fire that was slowly spreading on his curtains. “Well, he was helping me out with this science project of mine. . . “ he trailed off, pensive for a moment before adding “he must be somewhere under all the debris!” he exclaimed. He moved about his room, trying his best to clean the place up.

“Yes, under the debris,” a muffled voice agreed. Under a small pile of books and clothes and several huge pieces of the wall, a blond head popped out with a grin on his dirty face. He pulled himself out, removing the goggles that he was wearing, and wiped the dirt from his face. He gave the brunet a small pout when most of the dirt was finally smeared off his face “I told you not to use too much ammonium nitrate!!!” he exclaimed.

Tsuna raised his hands in defense, eyes closed and an apologetic look on his face. “S-sorry, Dino-nii! I-I just thought that maybe we needed a little bit more for better results!” he explained, scratching the back of his head a little awkwardly.

“Better results?” Mukuro asked before Dino could reply. “Don’t tell my you’re attempting to make dynamites for Hayato-kun again!” he said slightly exasperated and Hibari couldn’t help but gag a little at the sight of genuine distress on Mukuro’s face. It unnerved him still, even though he’s seen so many genuine looks on Mukuro's face from the passed few days he’s spent with him.. “You know he already has a large supply of gunpowder and dynamite with him, yes? So the need to make more seems very unnecessary!”

Tsuna shook his head. “Well what if he runs out while in battle!?” he exclaimed. “At least I’ll be able to teach him how to make makeshift bombs if ever that happens!”

So in this universe, Hibari pondered, Hayato Gokudera still has a thing for bombs and destruction, Sawada Tsunayoshi is knowledgeable with makeshift bombs and has a backbone, and Mukuro was his best friend since their early teenage years. It was odd and his curiosity betrays him as he wondered what the Ryohei and the Yamamoto of this universe were like. He turned his attention to his self-proclaimed tutor (at least he is in his universe) and gave him a scrutinizing glare. “Dino” he said simply as a greeting.

Dino, finally realizing Hibari’s presence in the room, smiled at the teen before walking over to give him a hug. “I didn’t notice you there, Kyoya----“ he was cut short by a fist colliding with his jaw. He reeled back and fell on his butt, hand finding itself on his now aching face. He gave Hibari a very confused look. If anything, he was more in shock than in pain from the blow and it was a look that was not unfamiliar on his face. He did, however, feel a small pang of guilt at the betrayed look that was sent his way.

“Don’t come near me, herbivore,” Hibari snarled. “You’re filthy.”

Mukuro, slightly panicked at Hibari’s show of ‘affection’ towards the other Italian man, quickly got up and helped Dino back on his feet. “Uh, Kyouya isn’t quite feeling. . . well today,” he explained with a sheepish grin and a small pat on the back to help get the dust off of his person. “A little bit on the cranky side, you’ll have to forgive him for that.”

“Uhm, lets move to the living room! I’ll get us all some tea!” Tsuna intervened before anyone else could speak in an attempt to be a good host and stop a fight before it happened. He ushered everyone out, being a little bit more careful around Hibari now, and closed the door behind him.

Mukuro put his arm around Hibari’s shoulders and whispered into his ear “Kyouya, I know that you aren’t very fond of people but in this universe you tolerate them!” He gave Dino a side-glance, noting that he was still a bit bummed at the fact that Hibari hit him, and added “In this universe, you and Dino-kun are actually very close so you better not do that again!”

Hibari hissed in reply “do not tell me what to do.” He shrugged Mukuro’s arm off his shoulders before talking a seat on the couch in Tsuna’s living room, crossing one leg over the other. He looked at Dino again, his glare never faltering, and thought for a while. Maybe he should really start considering taking anger management classes or something; maybe he is being a little bit too. . . mean.

Hibari shrugged to himself; he didn’t care about what people thought about him (since most people think he’s a jackass/bastard/jerk/asshole/monster anyway) but maybe drawing out too much attention to himself was a bad idea. It could mean that the very fabric of time and space could implode or something if too many people find out that he isn’t really the Hibari Kyouya of this universe. He hoped that his other self was smart enough to think about this too.

Tsuna came out of the kitchen (when did he go in there?) with four mismatched cups of steaming tea on a tray. He laid each of them in front of his guests and finally himself before sitting down across Hibari. “So Hibari-san, Mukuro-san,” he called, finally breaking the awkward silence that had filled the room “What are you two doing here again? My question earlier was never answered!” He smiled and took a sip of his tea.

Mukuro nudged Hibari with his elbow.

The prefect glared at his so-called best friend and cleared his throat. “There is something I wish to discuss with you, Sawada” he started, his frown still on his face. “The whereabouts of the Millefiore leader, Byakuran; tell me” he urged.

“Byakuran?” Dino asked, nearly spilling his tea all over himself in shock. “Kyouya, what business do you have with Byakuran?!”

Hibari continued to glare at Dino, unfazed by the Italian’s outburst. “It does not concern you” he stated flatly. So even here, the Millefiore Famiglia was the enemy of the Vongola Famiglia. Not that he cared, really. He just wanted to get back to his universe where everything was less bizarre.

Tsuna, also shocked, tried his best to keep his calm facade. This universe’s Sawada, though still skittish and doe-looking, seemed to be more in control of his emotions and how he displayed them. “Uh, Hibari-san,” he started with a concerned look on his face “Byakuran is from the Gesso Famiglia. . . I don’t think that there is a Millefiore Famiglia, well, at least not that I’ve heard of.” Sawada was also, apparently, very much involved with his Mafia roots this time, instead of constantly running away from something that could probably be called destiny.

Hibari had to admit that he slightly admired this universe’s Sawada Tsunayoshi simply because he was less of a herbivore than the one he knew. His thoughts straying away from it’s original track, Hibari turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. “I don’t care what Family he’s from,” he said monotonously. “Just tell me where he is.”

The brunet squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “Uhm, well, I guess there really is no harm in telling you, seeing as we aren’t really sure if the Gesso Famiglia is our ally or not but. . . “ he scratched the back of his head nervously and stood up. “I’ll. . . Just let me make a phone call to talk things through with Reborn.” With that, he left the three in the living room to talk privately to his tutor.

“Pray tell, Kyouya but what business do you have with Byakuran?” Mukuro asked, looking at his best friend from over his teacup. Mukuro, behind his calm façade, was not at all happy with the slight turn of events. He was hoping that maybe whatever the answer was to Hibari’s query would be given to them without trouble but there was something about the Gesso Famiglia, particularly Byakuran, which he didn’t like.

Hibari huffed indignantly and glared at his teacup. “You moronic herbivore,” he mumbled. “Did we not talk about this previously?”

Dino raised an eyebrow at Hibari’s hostility towards Mukuro. “Uhm, if you don’t mind me asking,” he began, awkwardly scratching the itch on his nose “did you two, perhaps, get into . . . a fight or something?” It was rare that he witnessed the two fighting because they usually kept most of their problems to themselves until said problems were resolved. No, he thought to himself, this was the first time he bore witness to Hibari being mean to anyone at all. Sure his comments were rather blunt and dry sometimes but then his words weren’t usually laced with venom.

A glare sent at his direction shut him and his thoughts up. “J-just an assumption,” he laughed, looking at everything but Hibari’s eyes.

Mukuro chortled softly, though Hibari was starting to understand the difference between a fake laugh and a genuine one. “Kufufufu~ Dino-kun, don’t you know that when you assume without proper information, it only makes an _‘ass’_ out of _‘u’_ and _‘me?’_ ”

Taking a few long seconds to comprehend the wittiness of Mukuro’s remark, Dino grinned and playfully punched the boy’s arm with a laugh. “Good one, Mukuro-kun,” he grinned, the atmosphere lightening up a bit. Maybe, he thought to himself, maybe they just need some time to cool off. The fact that they came together could mean that the fight wasn’t as serious as he thought it was.

“The look on your face makes me think you’re still assuming things,” Mukuro berated playfully, punching Dino’s arm in return. “Nothing is wrong,” he assured. “Kyouya’s just a little bit grumpy because his favorite jacket was ruined.”

And Mukuro was still a master at lying; Hibari added that to the growing list of why all Mukuro Rokudo’s were jackasses. “Shut up,” he retorted with a small frown.

Mukuro shrugged and went back to conversing with Dino, fully distracting the Italian from his thoughts prior to now. Too many questions asked would only add to the growing migraine Hibari felt coming on and he rubbed at his temples to slightly ease the pain before it came.

If there was anything that Hibari wanted most right now, it was the peace and serenity that he had created in the real Namimori; the Namimori in which he ruled. He didn’t like the fact that he seemed like an ordinary teenager living an ordinary and boring life. As he played with the thoughts in his head, he realized that even if his life here seemed painfully ordinary, he was still part of the mafia.

That definitely wasn’t very ordinary nowadays, was it?

He laid back a bit and shook his head. He’ll interrogate Mukuro later for the answers and details he needed to hear. As of now, he turned his attention back to Tsuna who had just entered the room with a skeptical look on his face.

He sat back down across from Hibari and nodded at him. “Reborn said that it would be a good idea if we had a family member to talk with the Gesso Famiglia to create an alliance, while we’re still on neutral terms with them” he explained. “And, well, since you have business with Byakuran, I suggested that you go in my place. Reborn says he’s okay with this, Hibari-san” Tsuna said with a smile.

“Good.”

Tsuna nodded in agreement. “Alright, then you’re off to Italy in two days!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight at Hibari’s agreement. He was actually expecting a little disagreement and was glad that he needn’t deal with an angry Hibari Kyouya, the strongest guardian of the tenth generation Vongola Famiglia. He turned his attention to Dino and nodded. “Reborn said that you would handle the passports and papers.”

“Wait! Don’t I get a say in this?!” Mukuro exclaimed, stopping Dino before he could leave the room to start on papers already. “I mean, no offence, Kyouya,” he added with a small apologetic smile on his face “but you don’t know a single word of Italian!” He looked at Tsuna then, a determined look on his face. “Tsunayoshi-kun, I demand that I be allowed to accompany Kyouya to Italy.”

Tsuna laughed, bemused. “I was already expecting you to say that, Mukuro-san, which is why I already told Reborn that you would be tagging along as his translator,” he informed Mukuro with a cheeky grin that made him look exceedingly charming for some reason. “No need to worry about it!”

Mukuro let out a sigh of relief and looked at Hibari with a smile on his face. “Well then, Kyouya! We’re off to Italy!!!” he exclaimed excitedly.

Hibari couldn’t deny the fact that he needed a translator but he would much rather choose anyone over Mukuro, even Dino. He stayed quiet despite his distaste for Mukuro’s company, simply because he didn’t want to sound like a whining herbivore; he wouldn’t dare tarnish his pride just because he was uncomfortable.

Hibari couldn’t tell this time if the smile on Mukuro’s face was sincere or not.

It was with much reluctance that the prefect finally nodded, begrudgingly accepting the Vongola Decimo’s offer. “Whatever,” he replied, standing up to make his way to the door. He gave Tsuna a quick nod before he fixed his gaze sternly at Dino. “Get yourself cleaned up,” he said bluntly before putting on his shoes and finally leaving.

Dino, for some reason or another, seemed to accept the statement as Hibari’s roundabout way of an apology. With a big grin on his face, he and Tsuna accompanied Mukuro out the door. “Well, whatever is up with the two of you, I hope you guys sort things out!” Dino said, patting Mukuro’s back supportively.

“Yeah,” Tsuna agreed with a mild look of concern on his face. Shaking his head, he tried to look on the bright side of things. “Well, anyway, we’ll pass by your house tomorrow to drop off the papers and whatever instructions Reborn might give us,” he told his mist guardian.

Mukuro nodded and put his shoes on. “By the way, Tsunayoshi-kun,” he piped up before he caught up with Hibari, “You don’t mind if Chrome stays over while I’m away, will you?” He asked. “If not with you, I can ask Sasagawa-kun instead.”

Tsuna scratched his head awkwardly. “It’s no problem at all if Chrome stays over but as you can see,” his eyes strayed to the smoke still coming out of his room’s window, “it can get pretty noisy here. I think it’d be better if she stayed with the Sasagawas.” He smiled “besides, I’m pretty sure that Kyoko-chan would be happy to have her over! They’re almost like sisters!”

Mukuro waved as he walked away. “Alright then, Tsunayoshi-kun. Thank you for the help.”

Hibari, though he was already a few meters ahead of Mukuro, heard the exchange clearly. It was definitely weird to hear Mukuro thank someone like that, and the lack of malice or sarcasm was unnerving.


End file.
